


Of Orange Carpets and Green Desks

by alateni



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: M/M, also i got a little crazy with the dance-elements metaphor, although i kinda tend to write more jicheol whoops my bad, i have embarked on a journey to bring justice upon this pairing, there is not enough junhao in this world
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-01
Updated: 2016-03-01
Packaged: 2018-05-24 02:22:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6138094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alateni/pseuds/alateni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Xu Minghao likes to think that he can run away from his problems. Turns out Wen Junhui is a fantastic dancer.</p><p>Also known as: I drank too much and started ranting about pointless things except you somehow found it endearing but I also kind of have a huge, unhealthy crush on you so let's never speak of this again?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Orange Carpets and Green Desks

            “Minghao,” Yoon Jeonghan directs his soft voice at the quivering mess of blankets that was Xu Minghao. “Minghao you have to come out one day.”

            “Both out of the closet and the blankets,” Kim Mingyu snickers to himself causing Jeonghan to glare at him. “Sorry.”

            “If you’re not going to be helpful you can go leave and keep Wonwoo company in the library,” Jeonghan says before turning back to the lump under the many blankets and comforters on the bed. “Minghao, at least poke your head out, you’re going to suffocate.”

            “Mingyu can’t go anywhere because Wonwoo basically told him to fuck off,” Lee Jihoon comments absentmindedly. “It’s true. You kept bothering him. You’re lucky he likes you so much. If it were me you’d be dead by now.”

            “I was just trying to help!” Mingyu whines. “He was stressed!”

            “And you think being a nuisance and stopping him from studying will help?” Jihoon raises an eyebrow. “I’m surprised you’ve managed to stay in university for this long.”

            “Okay, both of you, you’re not helping,” Jeonghan groans, standing up from his spot on Minghao’s bed. “Out,” Jeonghan points at Minghao’s bedroom door and waits patiently as Jihoon and Mingyu look at him in shock. “I’m not kidding, get out.” The three friends exchange another short period of stares of disbelief before Jihoon and Mingyu exit the room, grumbling under their breaths.

            “They didn’t have to leave,” Minghao mumbles from under the covers, words slightly distorted by the layers. He shifts slightly; it was getting kind of hot under all of his comforters, so he stuck his head out.

            “But this would’ve taken twice as long seeing as Mingyu is kind of useless in general and Jihoon is too sassy to be comforting,” Jeonghan sighs, reaching over to fix Minghao’s mussed hair.

            “I thought Mingyu was your favourite,” Minghao says, swatting Jeonghan’s hand away.

            “Mingyu is Wonwoo’s favourite,” Jeonghan rolls his eyes. “Now, what’s wrong?” Jeonghan latches onto Minghao’s shoulder to stop the younger boy from burrowing back into his covers.

            “Nothing’s wrong, why do you think something is wrong?” Minghao lies, wondering how much strength it would take to wiggle out of Jeonghan’s grasp and re-enter his nest of blankets. “I’m perfectly fine.”

            “Minghao you’ve been holed up in your room for two days now. No one’s heard from you, in person or over text, and I don’t even know if you’ve been _eating_. You’re skinny enough, you’re not _allowed_ to skip meals,” Jeonghan chides gently, causing Minghao to squirm.

            “Seriously,” Jeonghan continues, “you’ve been like this ever since that party.” At the mention of the party that had recently passed over the weekend, Minghao tenses up. His eyes widen and he immediately dives back under the blankets when he realizes that he’s given himself away. “Minghao, something happened at that party didn’t it?” Jeonghan makes the connection without prompting. He stands up, hand still on Minghao’s shoulder, and forcefully rips the three layers of blankets off of the skinny boy.

            “Nothing happened at the party,” Minghao denies, curling into a ball when his protective layers were thrown onto the ground. He’d probably have to wash them later since he hasn’t vacuumed in who knows how long but for now he pouts at the loss of warmth.

            “If you don’t tell me what happened at the party I’m going to get Seungcheol,” Jeonghan threatens. “And I don’t know about you but if something bad happened at the party you’re better off telling me because who knows what Seungcheol will do.”

            “Don’t tell Seungcheol hyung!” Minghao sits upright, panic spreading through his body. Seungcheol couldn’t know. He was friends with _him_ after all. “I’ll tell you, but you can’t tell Seungcheol hyung. Or Wonwoo hyung. Or Soonyoung hyung.”

            “Why so many people on the black list?” Jeonghan raises an eyebrow.

            “You have to promise or I won’t tell you,” Minghao insists childishly, pleading with Jeonghan with his large puppy eyes. Sighing, Jeonghan agrees and sits back down on the bed. He had always thought Mingyu was the biggest puppy in the group but it looks like Minghao now came at a close second.

“So, what happened?” Jeonghan gives him an expectant look, causing Minghao to sigh. He knew he was going to have to tell someone what happened sooner or later, his friends were too nosy not to care, but he had still held onto that fake hope that maybe he’d be able to pretend like _it_ never happened.

            “The party that happened last weekend,” Minghao starts. “It was like any other party obviously. Loud music, scantily dressed people, and lots of alcohol, you should know, you were there.” Jeonghan nods, gesturing for Minghao to continue. “Well, nothing really exciting happened for the first couple hours. I had a couple drinks, talked to some of the people from my classes, witnessed a cat fight over a pot of flowers that didn’t even belong to the house, the usual. Then I, uh, started getting drunk I guess.”

            “Oh no,” Jeonghan mumbles.

            “Oh no,” Minghao echoes. “I’ve been drunk at parties before, pretty much everyone is at least a little tipsy, but I guess I had a little more than usual that night. I was just sitting on the couch, laughing at almost everything that was happening, when _he_ sat beside me. I didn’t notice him at first, too busy giggling over the fact that the house had an orange carpet beside a green desk. I didn’t even know you could have green desks. In any case, he finally spoke, asked me what was so funny. So I told him. And you know how I get when I get drunk, I talk a lot. So I started telling him about all the atrocious crimes committed against basic colour scheming and design that I saw around the house and get this, he _laughed_. I don’t know if he agreed with me or thought that I was just hilarious, but soon enough we were getting closer, both physically and mentally mind you, and–”

            “Minghao please don’t tell me you had sex with a random guy at the party,” Jeonghan rubs his temples. “You’re supposed to be the good child.”

            “I’ve had sex before hyung,” Minghao snorts. “Not everyone is innocent. I swear even Chan has–”

            “Not important,” Jeonghan waves his hands. “So what happened next?”

            “We didn’t have sex, no clothes came off as far as I can remember,” Minghao reassures. “But I did end up on his lap and we made out for the rest of the night. Until Jihoon started grabbing everyone so we could go back home that is.”

            “And who is this mysterious man?” Jeonghan asks, raising an eyebrow. “I see no reason to hide out in your room for two days over this incident.”

            “I,” Minghao flushes, “I don’t remember.”

            “You’re lying,” Jeonghan says, narrowing his eyes. “I’m going to ask Jihoon if you don’t’ tell me.”

            “You spend too much time with Jisoo hyung,” Minghao mutters under his breath, cursing the psychology major. “And Jihoon doesn’t know who he is.”

            “But you do,” Jeonghan observes. “And even then, Jihoon can describe him to me. Jihoon has an amazing memory, you know that, even when he’s drunk.”

            “Fine,” Minghao sighs, giving up. “Wen Junhui.”

            “ _Jun_?” Jeonghan gasps, eyes widening. “You mean–”

            “ _Yes_ ,” Minghao groans, flopping back into bed. Of all the people he had to have made out with that night and ramble on about _colour combinations_ it had to be to his two year crush. Jeonghan, Jihoon, and Mingyu all knew, quite well in fact, about Minghao’s unhealthy obsession with the older Chinese male. Ever since he had entered Pledis University, Minghao had fallen in love with Junhui upon first glance.

            “Wow,” Jeonghan breathes, “fate must hate you huh?”

            “Definitely,” Minghao whines, thinking back to the only other time he had talked to Junhui. It had been a couple weeks ago, maybe last month, Minghao didn’t know, he had been trying to erase that memory from his brain. Minghao had been at the library, looking for a book Mingyu had sent him out for (why Mingyu couldn’t untangle himself from Wonwoo for _one second_ and get the book himself was beyond Minghao) when he had bumped into the attractive man. Minghao had been speechless, too busy staring (probably really creepily) at how nice Junhui looked in a simple white v-neck and jeans. Junhui had apologized before pointing at the book Minghao was holding, asking him if he could have it because he needed it for his class. Minghao had given it to him, made a weird noise in response, and fled the library without Mingyu’s book. “Maybe it’s a sign, perhaps we’re not meant to be.”

            “Stop being so dramatic,” Jeonghan rolls his eyes. “And get your life back together, just because you met him twice doesn’t mean you’ll ever talk to him again.”

* * *

            Minghao tried. He really did. He got his butt out of bed and went back to being the model student he always was. Going to classes early, making notes, spending hours at the library comparing colour samples and drawing design sketches. He was almost back to his regular schedule when, as always, fate decided it wasn’t done screwing with him yet.

            Minghao was just trying to get a drink; there was nothing wrong with being hydrated right? But as he was about to put his change into the machine, a hand reaches out to stop him.

            “That machine is broken, it’ll just eat your money,” a voice warns him, causing Minghao to blink in surprise. Turning his head to the side, Minghao forgets how to breathe yet again as he’s faced with the man of his dreams (literally, Minghao flushes slightly as he remembers the dream he had last night). “All of these machines are actually; I don’t know why they refuse to fix them even though I’m sure they’ve had millions of complaints.”

            “A-ah,” Minghao swallows in response, throat drying at a scary rate. He blinks, trying to see if this was just another dream, and doesn’t realize that he ends up staring at Junhui’s jaw line or how the older boy was wearing a really nice grey cardigan that hung almost artistically off of his broad shoulders.

            “Are you okay?” Junhui raises an eyebrow, slightly concerned at the lack of response from the other boy. “You’re looking a little flushed,” leaning closer, Junhui raises his hand to feel Minghao’s forehead. Startled, Minghao jerks back, dropping his change in the process before doing what he did best, fleeing.

            Ignoring Junhui’s calls, Minghao grabs his bag of books from the floor beside the vending machine before racing out of the library building. He probably seemed crazy, with his wide eyes, flushed cheeks, and panicked expression, but Minghao didn’t really care. In fact, it worked in his favour as students dove out of his way. He makes it almost half way across the campus before he slows down to catch his breath. Turning around in a slow circle, Minghao looks for any signs of the attractive Chinese male before finally relaxing.

            Slouching down on the nearest bench, Minghao hugs his bag and stares into the sky, cursing the innocent clouds floating past. Why did this have to happen to him? He never did anything wrong. He went to school, did his homework, respected his professors. He never cheated on anything, or anyone, and was always civil towards his exes. Every one of his friends thought he was the cutest, most precious being on the planet, and he loved them with all his heart. Yet fate had to constantly fuck him over like this. He wasn’t even that socially awkward, Hong Jisoo was the winner in that category, but the minute Junhui came into sight, Minghao seemed to forget how to breathe, much less actually _speak_.

            Hearing a soft _ding_ , Minghao sits up, startled. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and stares at the screen.

_Chatting with: Coups_

_Coups: Minghao_

_Coups: what’s this I hear about you running away from your problems?_

_Coups: you know that doesn’t actually work out in the end right_

_Coups: answer me I can see you reading these_

_Coups: do I have to ask Jeonghan_

_Coups: he’s right here I could totally do it_

_The8: go ahead_

_The8: he’ll explain everything to you_

_The8: meanwhile I’m going to move back to China_

_Coups: I lied_

_Coups: Jeonghan is with Jisoo_

_Coups: just tell me_

_Coups: you can’t move back to China you’re broke you don’t even have a job_

_The8: weren’t you the one that taught us lying is bad_

_The8: hypocrite_

_Coups: don’t get sassy with me_

_Coups: I don’t need another sass master_

_Coups: Jihoonie and Seunggwan are already enough_

_The8: and that’s mean I can earn money by dancing or something_

_The8: maybe a nice rich lady will adopt me since I’m so cute_

_Coups: that’s basically prostitution_

_Coups: that’s illegal and you’re too cute to go to jail_

_Coups: now tell me what’s wrong_

_The8: nothing is wrong_

_The8: everything is fine_

_The8: why is everyone so nosy_

_Coups: fine_

_Coups: I’m coming_

            Groaning, Minghao idly wonders if he could still run. There’s no way Seungcheol would really know where he was right? He was probably just saying that because he knew it would scare Minghao. Well, Minghao wasn’t going to have any of it. He was a responsible, independent boy who could solve his own problems. At the _ding_ of another message, Minghao checks his phone again.

_Coups: and don’t even try to run away I’m in the building to your left_

            Fuck. Eyes widening, Minghao jolts up and prepares to start sprinting when a strong hand grabs onto his arm. Panicking, Minghao turns, only for his jaw to drop when he came face to face with Junhui. The older boy was panting slightly, although he didn’t seem to be sweating, and his hair was lightly tousled. Great, another man with perfect hair. First Jeonghan, now Junhui, why did some people seem to get all the good things in life? Meanwhile, Minghao was left to deal with stubborn locks that didn’t want to stay down or shape themselves to the style Minghao wanted. The only good thing about his hair was that it was surprisingly easy to bleach, allowing Minghao to dye his hair all kinds of colours.

            “I thought you were majoring in interior design, not physical education,” Junhui says after catching his breath. “Why are you always running away?”

            “I’m not,” Minghao automatically denies. “I don’t _always_ run away.”

            “The last couple of times I’ve seen you, you’ve run the other way,” Junhui points out. “Other than that time at the party but you were so wasted you could barely walk without your friend holding you.”

            “Oh,” Minghao comments quietly.

            “So yeah, why are you always running away from me?” Junhui narrows his eyes and leans closer to inspect Minghao’s face. Instinctively, Minghao leans as far away from Junhui as he could in order to hide his probably beet red face.

            “Um,” Minghao mumbles, trying to figure out if he could get out of Junhui’s grasp. Probably not to be honest, the other boy was a lot stronger than him (Seungcheol and him went to the gym regularly – Jihoon told him, Minghao wasn’t stalking them or anything) and judging by the grip Junhui had on his arm, he either really wants to hold his hand – doubtful – or was making sure Minghao couldn’t escape again.

            “Minghao?” a voice calls, causing the two Chinese boys to turn. Seungcheol emerges from one of the buildings surrounding the plaza and looks at the duo in confusion. “Junhui? What are you doing here?”

            “Oh shit,” Minghao curses, not wanting to deal with one, a concerned and probably overly protective Seungcheol, and two, a distractingly attractive and highly confused Junhui. Trusting his instincts once again, Minghao sets off on a sprint, this time however, unknowingly dragging Junhui along with him.

            “Why are we running?” Junhui asks a few minutes later as Minghao leads him across the campus. Junhui’s hand had moved from gripping his arm to holding Minghao’s hand but Minghao was too busy trying to outrun Seungcheol to notice. Much. Okay, maybe Minghao did notice. A lot. But if Junhui wasn’t going to mention it then Minghao wouldn’t either.

            “Seungcheol,” Minghao pants in explanation, trying to conserve his breath for running. Junhui was right when he said that Minghao majored in interior design. The skinny boy spent most of his hours in his room, comparing colour samples, not at the gym working out like _some_ people. “Is chasing us,” Minghao manages to get out as they turn the corner.

            “I am aware of that,” Junhui replies, pulling Minghao back as the other boy tries to run in front of an incoming bicycle. “This way,” Junhui takes the lead, turning down a side alleyway. The older boy leads Minghao up into another building until they end up in what looks like a mostly unused dance practice room. Locking the door, Junhui turns the lights off and sits down beside Minghao (who had collapsed on the floor the minute they entered the room). “But to be fair, you were the one that ran away from him. Anyone would run after you.”

            “Where are we?” Minghao avoids Junhui’s question, still catching his breath and wondering if he was seriously out of shape or not. It wasn’t like Minghao didn’t exercise, Soonyoung wouldn’t let him. The boy was forced to go through grueling dance practices with Soonyoung and Chan every weekend and although he enjoyed it, Soonyoung liked to push them a little too hard for his liking. Thus, Minghao still maintained the muscle he had gained from years of break dancing, although, Minghao thinks with a grimace; it seems that his cardiovascular abilities were deteriorating. Maybe next time he’d appreciate it when Soonyoung refused to call for a break.

            “An old practice room I found in my first year,” Junhui explains. “Don’t think you’ve avoided my question by the way.” Junhui turns to examine Minghao with what little light managed to filter through the closed door. “No one comes in here much; I don’t think administration even remembers that it’s unlocked. I come here when the library is full to work or just to dance.”

            “You dance?” Minghao asks, interest peaked. He had been crushing on Junhui for almost a year now but he still didn’t know anything about the taller boy despite the fact that their friend circles overlapped.

            “A little bit,” Junhui shrugs. “I know you dance though, Soonyoung is always telling me about what a great break dancer you are and that I should join you guys so you’ll have a complete group of four. Something about how he can’t join any competitions because you need a minimum of four people.”

            “So you’re the guy Soonyoung hyung is always trying to convert!” Minghao exclaims. “He’s been talking about you too; I just never made the connection I guess.”

            “Yeah well, I don’t dance as much as I used to,” Junhui says, “I just kind of lost interest. Dancing used to be fun but then it just became stressful so I don’t do it much anymore. Only when I’m bored or if I have a lot inspiration and motivation.”

            “How can you lose interest in dance?” Minghao asks incredulously. “It’s like, the most relaxing yet exciting thing in the world!” Junhui grins as Minghao begins motioning passionately. He watches the younger boy talk about dance and how fun it is and finds himself thinking back to the night of the party. Minghao had been irrationally rambling on back then as well, about colour combinations of course, but he had the same look on his face. The same, fanatical gaze in his eyes that made Junhui listen intensely even though he had no idea what the younger boy was talking about half the time (what the heck is red red-orange anyways?).

            “Fine,” Junhui cuts Minghao off before the other boy could launch into a full on lecture on the pros and cons of dancing. “I always learned that dancing was a form of art where you could express your emotions through your body. Instead of talking then, shouldn’t you show me what you think of dance, through, well, _dancing_?”

            “So,” Minghao says slowly, standing up. “You want me to dance?”

            “Essentially yes,” Junhui nods, pointing at the speakers in the corner of the room. “You can pick a song from there, I’m pretty sure it’s still hooked up to the school Wi-Fi although I’ve always used the music on my phone.”

            Nodding, Minghao walks towards speakers and decides to pick a song from his phone. Plugging the aux cord into his device, he scrolls through his music for a couple of seconds before deciding on a track. “This is kind of a mix of choreography and free styling,” Minghao calls as he gets the speakers set up. “So it won’t be perfect.”

            “I haven’t danced competitively in years,” Junhui reassures the younger boy. “I probably won’t be able to tell.” Making a noise of affirmation, Minghao presses the play button and quickly walks back to the centre of the room.

Focusing on the mirror image of himself, Minghao closes his eyes and breathes in slowly. A couple seconds later, the music starts to play and Minghao opens his eyes, completely focused. He goes through the motions with precision and accuracy, yet still maintaining a fluid movement. His dancing style was never a fancy one; he wasn’t as strong as Chan or as technical as Soonyoung, but where he lacked in flare he made up for in feel. Minghao’s dancing could most accurately be compared to with water. He flowed with the music, let the rhythm and beats enter his brain and change the currents of his movements.

He wasn’t wind, no, that was Soonyoung. He couldn’t free style completely, couldn’t just let go of himself and move his body to the beat. Minghao was a tad too insecure for that, but Soonyoung was able to. Soonyoung could dance to anything, and he did. Whether it was a short commercial jingle, a long orchestra piece, or a heavy EDM beat, Soonyoung adapted his dancing and always managed to give a breathtaking performance. In that aspect, Soonyoung was wind, he adapted to change and incorporated anything unexpected into his dance perfectly.

            Minghao wasn’t earth either; Chan was in charge of that aspect. The shorter boy was the youngest out of all of them but no one could deny his stage presence. Despite his age, Chan gave off a charisma fit for professional dancers that were five, ten years older than him. He was powerful, every move hitting each beat precisely, and he had a certain groove that Minghao sometimes found himself envying. The younger boy had a natural talent for dance, and it showed. He grew quickly, having only been part of their dance group for a couple of months; Chan was already picking up on Soonyoung and Minghao’s habits. He was growing, much like a sprouting bean sprout, and there was no way to tell how high he would be able to reach.

            Minghao was more subtle, more fluid, more graceful in a sense. Minghao was water; he drifted in out of the music, blending it with his own movements until his seemingly soft gestures combined into a massive wave of power. Minghao wasn’t as charismatic as the other two, he was aware of this, yet he always grabbed attention. If you asked Minghao, he’d probably just shrug and pretend it was nothing, but the audience always noticed him. Maybe it was because his style was so different yet similar to Chan’s and Soonyoung’s. He wasn’t as powerful but he held them together. While Chan was strong and Soonyoung was free, Minghao was a mixture of both, and, as such, brought the team to new heights. He was the bridge between two other dancers and was practically the backbone of their choreography.

But that wasn’t to say that Minghao was boring to watch by himself, Junhui could testify to that. The younger boy was captivating, his style seemed almost interpretative. And it was, in a way, every dancer’s style was. They took the music, the rhythm, the beat, and made it their own. Sometimes they told a story, a struggle, a climax, while other times they merely evoked emotion, happiness, sadness, rage, whatever it was, however the dancer was feeling, it showed. You couldn’t lie through dance, you could try, try to smile through the pain, to hide your tiredness with extra movements, but to the trained eye, it was noticeable. Junhui had said that he hadn’t danced in years, but he was still a dancer. He could pick up on the subtle movements that rippled through Minghao’s entire being. He could tell that Minghao was slightly nervous, but was also mostly excited. The boy’s normal lucid style was popping with energy and it worked. The song, the choreography, the random bouts of free styled break dancing, it all added up into a breathtaking performance that left Junhui slightly flustered and mostly impressed.

            “H-how was it?” Minghao asks, breathing heavily. He was flushed, not like he usually was around the older boy, the red glow on his face was more of an aftermath of dancing, but he was still slightly nervous about the fact that he had danced in front of the man of his dreams.

            “Perfect,” Junhui smiles, causing Minghao to turn an even darker shade of red. “Seriously,” Junhui leans forwards, pulling his knees into his chest and wrapping his arms around them before looking up at the other boy. “You were amazing, practically flawless.”

            “T-thanks,” Minghao coughs. “Hey, you know what?” Minghao brightens up considerably. “You should dance too.”

            “What?” Junhui raises an eyebrow, staring at the slightly shorter boy in disbelief.

            “Dance, freestyle, whatever you want,” Minghao continues, getting nervous the longer Junhui looked at him. He didn’t really know what came over him, he had just met the man after all (those years of pining didn’t count) and it really wasn’t his place to ask him to do something like that. Then again, Junhui did the same to him and besides, Minghao just really wants to see him dance.

            “Seriously?” Junhui blinks, still not quite understanding of the situation. Minghao nods eagerly, pulling Junhui up (too excited to blush at the skin ship) and pushing him towards the aux cord in the corner. Looking down at the cord in his hands and then back at the supportive glances Minghao was sending in his direction, Junhui sighs and accepts his fate.

            Plugging his phone into the speakers, he scrolls through his songs and wonders idly what kind of dance would impress Minghao. Junhui hadn’t danced seriously in years. He had training and practice with it before he entered university but the stress and fears of moving to a new country had caused him to lose touch with his favourite hobby. He had drabbled in dancing a couple times before, mostly when he was seriously stressed, but it was more of a slow, relaxed movement to music rather than a full on choreography like Minghao had showcased.

            To be honest, Junhui was slightly nervous. He wasn’t polished _at all_ , and after the amazing performance Minghao had just put on, there was a small part of Junhui that wondered how he could even compare. He had played with the idea of joining Soonyoung’s dance crew (even more now that he knew Minghao was a part of it) but the main reason that held him back was because of his own skills. He didn’t want to pull the team down; Junhui was never one to have to be supported by others. He preferred to stand with his own two legs, to be the one helping others, so it was a foreign idea for him to have to rely on others to re-teach him things he had lost because of his lack of practice.

            “Just a reminder,” Junhui finally picks a song after sighing quietly. “I’m very rusty, it’ll be nothing like your dancing.” Nodding, Minghao motions for Junhui to continue and sits down as the first chords of the song fills the room.

            Watching Junhui carefully, Minghao couldn’t help but smile. Junhui was right, he hadn’t practiced in a long time, his movements were good enough, but they were definitely lacking some skill and timing. But other than that, Minghao’s small smile stretched into a full grin, Junhui was amazing. He was selling himself short, whether because he was insecure or humble Minghao didn’t know, but Minghao did know that Junhui was powerful. His timing might have been off, but the moves he did hit, he hit _hard_. Every beat coursed through Junhui’s being and confidence practically oozed out of his pores. And his _facial expressions_. Minghao felt his jaw drop. Although hesitant to admit, Minghao had always found the other boy extremely attractive and sexy – which was probably a leading factor to Minghao’s drunk self initiating a make out session with Junhui at the party – but those factors were only amplified through Junhui’s dancing. His smirk, his stare, the way he moved his body, everything screamed a subtle sexiness mixed along with a barely controlled fierce energy.

            It was decided, Minghao thought with a mental nod. Junhui was fire. He was the perfect addition to their team. Water, earth, wind, and fire. A perfect combination, an almost unbeatable team. They had the fierce energy, the shock factor of fire, the flexibility, the smoothness of wind, the charisma, the powerful dominance of earth, and finally, the blending medium, the subtle skillfulness of water.

            By the end of the song, Junhui is panting heavily. He falls on the floor in a happy tiredness after the last move and stares up at the ceiling as the speakers play the next song – his phone having been on shuffle. They stay like that for a while, both silent, not really thinking, just being. After the song changes again, Junhui finally flops his head to his other side and stares at Minghao (who had slumped down onto the floor as well).

            “You’re in,” Minghao chuckles weakly, vocal chords in an awkward position as his head was still supported by the mirror although his body was horizontal to the floor. “I’m sure Soonyoung hyung and Chan’ll love you.”

            “W-what?” Junhui blinks slowly.

            “I’ve accepted you into our dance team,” Minghao rolls over to the older boy, causing Junhui to chuckle slightly at his actions. “You have no say in this matter, practice starts this weekend, 12 PM sharp, bring a lunch or money because Chan’ll definitely beg to go to this cafe he loves – I think it’s because he has a crush on the server.”

            “Okay,” Junhui says, against his better judgement. The logical side of his brain was screaming at him that this was a bad idea; he was not as great of a dancer as he was before, he’d only bring them down, but just looking into Minghao’s excited eyes was enough to quiet that part of his mind. “Guess this means no more drunk parties?” Smirking, Junhui watches as Minghao flushes from the neck up. “No more crash courses in interior decorating?”

            “I major in interior _design_ okay, there’s a difference,” Minghao huffs, sitting up in indignation. Looking down at Junhui shyly, he examines the curves and edges of the elder’s face before turning away.

            “I know, I’m just teasing,” Junhui grins, sitting up as well before reaching over and dragging Minghao closer to him. They end up sitting across from each other, legs entangled, and fingers intertwined. “You know,” Junhui says, watching Minghao’s blush only grow (it was almost fascinating, how fast he was turning red). “It’s not polite to leave someone like that.”

            “It wasn’t my fault,” Minghao mumbles, slumping forwards and accidentally leaning his forehead against Junhui’s. “It’s not socially acceptable to pull someone onto your lap while they’re talking about chairs either just saying.”

            “True,” Junhui lets out a loud laugh. “How about we start over then?” Junhui feels himself turn pink (read: very red) when Minghao’s eyes shoot up to meet his in anticipation and excitement. “I’m Junhui.”

            “I know that,” Minghao snorts, rolling his eyes.

            “Shh, let me continue,” Junhui shushes the younger boy’s outburst of sass. “I’m Junhui, you’re a cutie, and we should date.”

            “That’s really lame,” Minghao bursts out giggling, hands leaving Junhui’s hands to cover his mouth. “I never knew you’d be this greasy. But it’s okay, I’m skinny enough, I can suffer eating some greasy food.”

            “You’re pretty dorky yourself,” Junhui rolls his eyes. “I’m taking that as a yes.” Minghao nods, causing Junhui to grin widely and lean forwards. Heart palpitating, Minghao stares as Junhui’s faces gets closer and closer to his own. He wasn’t fully conscious of what happened during the party, so technically, this would be his first (remembered) kiss with Junhui and he wasn’t really sure what to do with himself. Closing his eyes on instinct, Minghao leans forward.

            “FOUND YOU,” the door slams open, causing the two Chinese boys to spring back. Looking up, Minghao almost face palms as he sees Seungcheol and a laughing Soonyoung at the back. “Oh,” Seungcheol blinks obliviously at the Minghao’s flushed face and Junhui’s annoyed growl. “Was I interrupting something?”

            “They were probably continuing what they started at the party,” Soonyoung states, giggling when Junhui blushes. “I knew it! You finally caught him Jun, do you know how hard it was for me? Knowing the two of you would practically die for each other yet you would constantly dance around each other because you two are hopeless at life in general?”

            “Junhui’s joining our dance team,” Minghao blurts out because he can’t possibly stand the glances and tension in the room.

            “Hoshit really?” Soonyoung’s eyes brighten considerably before he rushes to his friend and holds his hands together. “I’m so proud of you Junnie, coming out of your little shell and finally manning up to join us. Don’t think you can slack off though. I’m putting you on an extra training regime to make sure you don’t drag us down.”

            “Fine,” Junhui sighs, body already aching in anticipation of the exercises Soonyoung was going to put him through. “I knew this would happen.”

            “Wait,” Seungcheol pauses, finally catching up with everything that had happened. “So the person Jeonghan told me that Minghao made out with was Junhui?”

            “You mean you actually didn’t know?” Soonyoung deadpans.

            “Was I supposed to?”

            “Hyung, even _Chan_ knew.”

            “Oh.” Grinning at Seungcheol’s cluelessness, Minghao sneaks a glance at Junhui, who shifts towards him so they’re sitting side by side again. Leaning over, Junhui presses a short kiss on Minghao’s ear.

            “We’ll continue this later,” he whispers huskily into the shorter male’s ear before being pulled away by Soonyoung.

            “Wen Junhui! Don’t you _dare_ go corrupting Minghao like that!” Soonyoung screeches, immediately tackling Junhui and the two turn into a ball of arms and legs. Smiling softly, Minghao reaches up to touch his ear and thinks he might start appreciating orange carpets and green desks.

**Author's Note:**

> Tada! Can you tell I’m total Performance Unit and China Line trash? Also I like to make people blush too much I realize. And I'm bad at summaries. *shrugs*
> 
> I dunno what I was doing with this oneshot tbh. It was supposed to be somewhat smutty and then it turned into an analogy between dancing styles and the four elements. O.o Oh the things writing at 2 AM does to you lol.
> 
> This is also crossposted on my [Tumblr](http://cinnamingbao.tumblr.com/) and [AFF](https://www.asianfanfics.com/profile/view/807953).
> 
> Hope you're smiling!
> 
> ~ alateni


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